


Fae Touched

by Elodie (rubberbisquit)



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Kids, Missed Chances, not assault-y bad, sexual redemption, some minor mysticism, some really bad sex, timeline jumping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/Elodie
Summary: Victoria was halfway between her A-levels and her nursing degree when she ran into a stupidly hot actor named Henry while on vacation in Ireland.  Henry was enchanted with the beautiful red head and talked his way into her bed.  Things didn’t go … particularly well and before the sun could rise, Henry had vanished.  Victoria was happy to see him go and the embarrassment of that terrible night of sex faded until it was just an anecdote she’d tell her friends after too many drinks.Until one day a tall, handsome man appeared in the A&E with a young boy and brought back a whole lot of memories.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Ireland, 2008

Happiness was a crowded market place and the smell of the ocean blowing in from the beach, just on the other side of the buildings. Tory tipped her head back and smiled up at the sky. It was a beautiful May day and she wasn’t stuck in London. The soft lilt of Irish accents carried on around her and she smiled even wider. She was in Bray, a popular vacation spot from her youth, on a much needed break from reality.

She’d just finished her second year at University College with top marks. A lot of sleepless nights had been chasing her since she’d left Surrey and headed north along the Thames. A lot of days without seeing any kind of nature that wasn’t perfectly cultivated.

There was only so much walking around the city parks could do for her wild soul.

Her best friend had suggested a quick trip post semester and Tory had agreed instantly. This time of year, right before tourist season started, everything was cheap and it wasn’t too crowded. Jecy had been arguing with a gentleman about a wooden trinket for the better part of ten minutes and Tory watched with a fond smile. Her best friend was a firecracker and was very used to Jecy getting her way.

She was about to rescue the poor salesman when a hand on her wrist had her pausing. She turned to follow the grip and found an elderly woman with a kind smile. “Oh, yes but look at ye. A true beauty. Beauty like tha’ should have a scarf to match, don’t ye think?” Tory noticed the woman’s goods then, silk and wool fluttering gently in the breeze. The old woman guided her towards the fluttering fabrics, dancing a little more madly now with stronger gusts of wind. Tory frowned at the sky, dismayed to find that it had darkened significantly during their little shopping foray. She had wanted some beach time that afternoon, but perhaps not.

“Come now, girl. Take a look.” The old woman was insistent, tugging at her wrist and gesturing at the scarves. Tory refocused on the task at hand, only mildly irritated with the woman’s tone. There, towards the back, an emerald green number that was shot through with streaks of brown, fluttered less than the other scarves around it. It made her think of her own eyes, the genetic mutation she shared with her mother making her eye color impossible to nail down.

She reached her free fingers towards the shawl only to be drawn up short as the hand around her wrist tightened. The elderly lady was staring her down, mouth twisted up in a tight grimace. Where initially had been a kind, dark brown gaze, milky white eyes stared back at her. Tory would have physically recoiled but the grip holding her was too tight. “You’ve a long road ahead of you until you find love, Fae Touched Child. You’ll find it tonight but then it will be stolen from many years. When your gazes reflect yer true heart, know that you’ve found the one.”

Anxiety uncoiled its cold grip around her heart and she gasped out a strangled, “What?” Tory was flabbergasted. Her words interrupted whatever trance the old woman had fallen under and she was freed from the woman’s grip. Tory took a few quick steps back, assessing the situation for any further danger or creepy fortune telling.

Because that’s what it had been, right? Her fortune? What in the ever loving fuck had the woman meant by calling her a Fae Touched Child? 

Jecy’s bright voice sounded at Tory’s ear and it almost sounded like a gunshot. Tory was shaking when Jecy came to her side, a hand instinctively cupping an elbow at the look of panic on Tory’s face. Tory turned to gesture at the old woman but found nothing but an empty alleyway. Words escaped her even as Jecy gave her a few moments to collect herself. Her friend rubbed soothing circles on Tory’s back and the younger woman was at a loss. What the fuck had just happened?

“Come on Kitten. Let’s get a nap in before we go out tonight.” Tory didn’t argue as Jecy led them away from the market and from the most unsettling experience Tory had in her life.

That night was bright and full of laughter. The Harbor Bar in Bray was packed to capacity with revelers enjoying the late spring Thursday evening. Tory was four drinks in, her cheeks rosy with the alcohol and aching from laughing so much. It had been the _best_ idea ever to take this little mini vacation.

She looked cute. She looked fucking hot actually and it was time to kick back. She’d convinced herself, somewhere after drink number two, that through alcohol all things were possible. Particularly the ability to forget about the old woman in the marketplace and the burn on her wrist where she’d been held.

Tory shivered when she ran her hand over the tender skin around her wrist and then shook her ruminations away. This was not a night for creepy old ladies. It was night for banging skin tight dresses and fuck-me heels. In the crowded bathroom, she brushed the hair out her eyes and reapplied a bright pink lip gloss. Although Jecy had promised that this was _the place_ in town to find the hot guys, Tory has been underwhelmed so far and it was probably up to her to find entertainment for the evening.

Her steps were a little unsteady in the heels as she returned from the bathroom. Her eyes scanned the bar for her friend’s unnaturally bright red hair. Every table had at least three bodies at it and she frowned. If Jecy had found someone to take back to their shared bungalow and had left Tory at the bar . . . _alone . . ._ she was going to kill the red head. Jecy’d done this to her before, countless times at the pubs near their apartment in Fitzrovia. 

A hand grabbed Tory’s arm right where the woman had grabbed her earlier and she instinctively recoiled. Jecy’s blinding grin floated into her vision, a little guilty. She blinked, recognizing her friend but irritated she’d been hiding. “Hey! Come and meet-“Jecy’s voice drifted as she turned to the two men who were also sitting at the table. “-Max and Henry! They’re actors.” 

Tory took in the additional bodies at their table, the very reason she hadn’t noticed Jecy. The two men were also grinning and she had to physically restrain herself from sighing dreamily. They were hot, almost unfairly so. And had a drink waiting for her. Max looked really familiar and had settled into the seat next to Jecy. Henry didn’t look familiar at all, but his smile was sinful as Tory slid back into her original chair. Which was pulled up tight next to his. The solid body she settled next to was intriguing. Jecy shot her a wink at the thankful nod she shot her way. 

How could Tory have doubted her skills, after knowing Jecy for so long? She always knew how to pull in prime real estate. 

Tory raised a glass to all three and took a deep drink of the Guinness. “So, Tory. Jecy was telling us you’re at uni for nursing?” Henry’s voice was smooth in her ear and she turned to glance at him. Deep blue eyes met hers and she was momentarily speechless. She hadn’t noticed in the dimly lit room before but he really was beautiful.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of reaction and she mentally shook herself. “Um, yeah. Just finished second year. Two more to go.” She took another drink to cover up her sudden nervousness. Jecy was good at pulling hotties but they weren’t usually this _pretty_. 

The stout was hitting a little harder than Tory probably needed and she decided it would be prudent to slow down. Henry’s gaze darkened as he watched her swallow. Her tongue peeked out, swiping a wayward drop of liquid. He licked his lips in response and her breath caught.

So it was going to be like that?

As if sensing her thoughts he raised his eyes back to hers and smiled lazily. “Smart and gorgeous. That’s a dangerous combo.” A hand rose, brushing the hair back from her face. The touch sent a shiver down her spine and she knew what he was offering with the motion. 

He was one to talk about dangerous combinations. Those eyes and those lips could cause a lot of damage. “What about you? Are you guys shooting a movie or something?”

Henry grinned, his tongue peeking out teasingly. “The Tudors. It’s a TV show for an American channel.”

Tory looked suitably impressed. She had a vague notion of the show but hadn’t seen it. She didn’t watch much media with her school schedule. “Tudors? Henry the Eighth?” At his nod she tilted her head to observe him. He certainly had the regal profile to portray a royal. And he had a certain air about him that only came with money and privilege. “Are you playing the king?”

The question delighted him and she was equal parts enamored with the resulting dimples. “Ah, no. The best friend, actually.” Tory’s knowledge of medieval history was lacking and honestly, she didn’t really care. She just wanted to see him smile, preferably forever. 

Across the table, Max had his face buried in Jecy’s neck as the redhead laughed. “Is he the king?”

Henry shook his head and leaned conspiratorially close. “No. One of the many brothers-in-law.” His words were pure mischief as though sharing a joke but Tory didn’t understand. She smiled anyway, loving the way the dim light cast warm shadows on the planes of his face. He had one of those faces. You know, perfect? Dimples on his chin and his nose, even in his cheeks when he gave her an eager smile. She wondered what his sharp canines would feel like on her breast, gently biting at a nipple.

The thought had her squirming in her seat and made her panties damp. 

Heat flashed in Henry’s eyes and he must have known the effect he was having. A man didn’t look like _that_ and not understand. The heat radiating off of him was almost overwhelming yet she didn’t move away. Instead she let her hand rest on his forearm in a blatant invitation to remain right there at her side. He looked at her hand then up at her face and the lazy grin he gave her in return was intoxicating.

Later, after a few more rounds that she knew she should have turned down, Henry cornered her on the patio. She’d stepped outside to take a breather and found herself bracketed by his arms on the railing. He was solid and smelled vaguely of Burberry. Tory stiffened for a fraction of a second before she leaned her head to one side. He took her invitation and his lips found her pulse. She pressed back against his strong chest as his arms tightened. He was doing delicious things with his mouth and she didn’t want him to stop.

The other patrons faded away, her attention caught entirely by his lips and his hands and the small hitches of breath in the back of his throat as he worshiped her skin. 

Jecy really did know how to pick them.

They were a jumble of lips and limbs as they crawled into the back of a cab. Tory pulled away long enough to give the cabbie the address of their bungalow but Henry belayed the order. Giving his address, he pulled her onto her lap. She could feel him under her, swollen and insistent. And _big_. Good lord. Her mouth went dry when he locked the steel bands of his arms behind her back and ground her down into his crotch.

Her hands grasped at his biceps, fingertips flirting with the edges of his sleeves. He was so hard everywhere and it was making her light headed. Thankfully the cab ride was short and she was pushed up against the door of his flat not 10 minutes after they’d left the pub.

Tory missed the details of her surroundings as Henry bracketed and guided her through the darkened hallway and into his bedroom. The backs of her knees collided with the bed and she fell back with a startled _oomph_. Henry’s grin was bright in the darkness of the room. That wasn’t enough though. She wanted to see all of him. She’d felt his muscles under his clothes. She wanted to watch as he revealed them to her. 

“Hey, slow down. Turn on the light.” She grabbed at Henry’s hair, short but just long enough that she was able to stop his forward momentum.

He laughed at her, his hands pushing apart her legs so he could settle further against her. She let out a deep groan at the contact. The shifting drew the material of her jeans tight against her clit and it was making her brain fuzzy. “I don’t need lights to see where I’m going.” His tone was light and teasing and she sighed in resignation. Fine. Whatever. She’d just _feel_ everything.

He made quick work of her pants and panties and then dove face first into her crotch. Tory let out a squeal, her hands grabbing at his head again as he latched onto her clit and sucked. _Hard_. “Christ Henry, not so much. It’s not a straw.” He thought she was joking; his chuckle was low and dirty over her pussy. He latched on again and she jerked away. “No, really. Gently.”

If the lights had been on she would have probably seen him pouting up at her. Instead he paused for a long moment. She wondered what he was waiting for but then let out a low gasp when his mouth descended again. Impossibly soft, his tongue mingled with excited exhales and _yeah that was better_.

It lasted for _moments_ , just mere _moments_ , because as soon as she relaxed into the blankets to enjoy the experience, he began Hoover-ing. Tory shot up, both hands pushing the suction from her clit. He looked wicked pleased with himself as though he’d gotten an orgasm out of her that quick. She frowned. What was she going to do with this boy?

“Um. I guess I’m just not feeling oral tonight? Can I . . . ride you?” She winced at how childish the second the words came out of her mouth. _Well, geez Tory. Why don’t you ask if you can borrow his crayons next?_

Thankfully, Henry was receptive. He stripped out of his clothes, far too fast, deriving her of any sort of viewing pleasure and then flopped onto his back on the bed. In the dim light of the room she could make out the vague outline of his manhood; he was hard in the shadows and from what she could tell he was . . . going to take some getting used to. 

Henry was sweet enough to fish out a condom and put it on while she settled on his thighs ( _way more solid than she’d expect from an actor doing a Tudor-era show)_. Insistent hands guided her up and over his cock and then she felt the tip of him at her entrance. It was . . . really big. And she probably wasn’t as wet as she should have been but she sank down anyway.

It burned. There was no good way to describe it as anything other than full and burning. She let her body weight carry her down to his root and then waited for her body to adjust. A few experimental dips of her hips had her gasping. Fuck this was like standing barefoot on hot cement in the summer time. All sensory cells were focused and heightened where he filled her.

Henry was patient beneath her at least, perhaps understanding that he couldn’t just go around sticking his giant cock in women without preparation. She was about to call the whole thing off when he licked two fingers and brought them to her clit. Okay, yes, she thought. That did not suck. That did not suck at all. He had her writhing in a surprisingly short amount of time and perhaps she hadn’t given him enough credit.

Until he started to push up into her and it was all too much again. He sensed the tenseness in her body and came to a stop. “Is it too much?” He didn’t even sound surprised. Just resigned.

She nodded and then remembered he couldn’t see her because he hadn’t bothered turning on the light so she croaked out a yes. 

Henry was gentle when he pulled her up, slipping free. His lips met her in a passionate kiss, hands drawing her down to the bed. Her legs slipped open again, welcoming him back into the cradle of her thighs. When he slid back into her body at this angle, it wasn’t as bad.

Tory would come to decide that it had been embarrassment and a need to finish that had led to the five short pumps before Henry had groaned into her neck. She lay spread out with 200 pounds of an attractive male sprawled over her form, and with a deep, rude ache in her very soul. She’d had unfulfilling sex before but if he didn’t finish her off this whole experience was going to take first place.

He shifted and Tory caught the tell-tale smell of spilled cum on the air. _Oh. Oh fuck._ She pulled away quicker than she should have, Henry telling her to slow down. She couldn’t though because if they’d just had unprotected sex, she was going to kill him. And then herself. Maybe not in quite that order.

Her hand fumbled for the bedside lamp, clicking on and causing them both to groan at the sudden light. There was a condom, sure, still holding on for dear life but it was split halfway down Henry’s cock. Which was still tall and proud as the night was long. 

The two looked at each other, as much as they could in the dim lit room. And then Tory did the absolute most responsible thing she could think of at that very moment.

She _ran._


	2. Chapter 2

London. October, 2019. 

Victoria Bartlett was full of luck, or so everyone liked to tell her.

At 17 she’d made it out of a brutal car accident relatively unscathed that had crippled the driver of the other car. At 21 she landed a prestigious position at Evalina London Children’s Hospital, right out of nursing school. By 28 she was head nurse in the phsyio ward. And now, at 31 she usually had her pick of shifts because she was the one who scheduled them.

Lucky. As her co-workers were quick to remind her. A bit of the luck of the Irish, if her mother was to be believed.

Victoria wasn’t having any of it. For every windfall that had come her way, she’d paid in other ways.

That car crash had put her in the hospital for a few weeks and then into physical therapy for almost six months. Sure, she’d recovered without any long term effects, but it had destroyed her promising track career.

Her placement at Evalina was the result of making friends with the staff after her sister had passed.

Becoming head nurse had happened through hard work and dedication. This was most aptly interpreted to mean long hours and a complete lack of a romantic life.

At 32, Victoria hadn’t had a date in almost six years. She hadn’t had sex in almost three and at no point did she look at her life and think it was where she had intended to end up. 

But it was her life and she was exactly where she was _meant_ to be: working her biweekly shift at the A&E on a blustery October afternoon. The ward was slow and she was bored. Two kids that had gotten various objects stuck up their noses, (independent of one another) and were down the north hall while a little girl who’d gotten a little too friendly with the high tea pot was situated on the south.

If she wasn’t head nurse just a few floors up, she’d ditch and go cuddle in a warm blanket because they didn’t need her but rules were rules. Everyone worked a few shifts down in A&E every month. This Thursday it was her.

“Victoria, you’ve finally got incoming.” The registration nurse handed a file to her over the station desk and she flipped the page. Male, 7 years. Complaining of pain in the left arm after a fall from a tree. It was probably broken, the poor guy. 

She winced at the thought and headed out to receiving. The room was garishly decorated; there were lots of happy colors intended to put kids at ease while they waited to be seen. It was empty except for the seven year old and his guardian. The file in her hand read Peter Cavill. The adult accompanying him was Henry- uncle. 

Her heart clenched at the sight. Peter was obviously in pain, hunched over his arm and rocking back and forth. She could hear his whimpers from thirty paces. The uncle was also hunched over the kid, rubbing at his back and making calming noises. Christ, they sounded like wounded puppies.

Well, that just wouldn’t do. She put on a blinding smile meant to put the child at ease and called out for him. “Peter?” Two sets of identical azure eyes looked up at her from behind identical mops of chocolate brown curls. Both gazes were pained and worried but the elder of the two looked a little frantic. She smiled even wider. “Hey! I’m Nurse Victoria. I’ll be taking care of you this afternoon.”

She’d been at this long enough that she could recognize the drop in the boy’s shoulders as he relaxed. So he was in pain but it wasn’t excruciating. Good. 

Victoria waved a hand for the pair to join her. Her attention was focused on Peter, delicately cradling his wounded wing close to his chest but she couldn’t help but note that the uncle who stood up with him was kind of a giant. Easily a half foot taller than her, he was wide through the shoulders and narrow in the waist. And, if she was being completely honest, _totally fucking hot_. But. That wasn’t important. What was important was her patient, who was looking up at her pitifully. 

She had a job to do, and ogling the attractive uncle was not it.

Victoria led them both through the doors to the examination rooms and put them up in the first available spot. Clicking the door closed behind her she pulled up the room’s computer terminal and began her preliminary examination. “So. Peter. Tell me what happened.” She let the boy explain as she moved about him, checking his vitals and making sure there wasn’t anything else going on with him.

“Well. I was in the back with Kal and I saw a ball I’d lost up there last year so I climbed the tree. But, it was wet or something. I dunno. I got about halfway up and then slipped. Hit my arm hard and now it hurts.” She winced with him in sympathy then almost laughed out loud when the uncle chimed in.

“I swear I only looked away for a moment. He was out with the dog, who is usually much better at child herding. I had to take a phone call.” Henry sounded pained, almost more so than his young nephew and Victoria gave him a reassuring nod. Accidents happen; she knew that better than most given her profession.

“Please. I’m not a bad babysitter.” Victoria’s attention caught on the way he pleaded with her and she wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince: her, his nephew, or himself. Or perhaps he was practicing for when he’d be giving the child back to his parents.

She gave him a more reassuring smile than before. “He seems to be in good health other than the arm so I suspect we’ll have Peter in a plaster and the two of you on your way before you know it.” Her words were enough to reassure him and he graced her with a relieved smile. Victoria could swear she’d seen that exact look before but she just couldn’t place it.

“Don’t worry Uncle Henry. Mum won’t even care and you know Dad likes casts.” Peter’s small voice was gaining some reassurance, now that he had been told his injury wasn’t that bad. Victoria wasn’t actually qualified to make that determination: they’d have to get some x-rays and have the attending doctor look at it but Peter was relieved and that made her happy. She preferred her patients more relaxed than not.

Peter’s words did not have the reassuring effect on his uncle that Peter had probably hoped for. Henry raised a large hand and rubbed it through his curly hair. His hair was long enough to fall in his face and Victoria didn’t see the full expression he made at his nephew. The groan, though, made her think he’d just remembered the returning the nephew part of his day. “Bud, I don’t know if we can give you back yet. Your mum already thinks I’m an idiot. Can’t have her thinking I’m irresponsible too.”

She was almost heart-broken at the resignation in those words.

She didn’t know if Peter’s mom was Henry’s sister or sister-in-law but Victoria firmly hoped that the woman wouldn’t take this incident out on the tall, good looking man. He was almost frantic with worry. Fuck but there was something about the glint in his eye.

“Alright, well you two sit tight. I’m going to go order a couple of tests.” She gave another one of her patented smiles of reassurance and both Cavills brightened.

She was still smiling when she shut the door behind her and ran right into Harriett, the floor lead for A&E.

“Is that Henry Cavill in there with his nephew?”

Victoria was instantly suspicious of her tone. Harriett was a hard ass; it was unlike her to run down another nurse to question them. “That’s Peter Cavill, aged seven. Probable broken arm.”

Harriett raised one eyebrow. “And Henry Cavill, his uncle?”

“That’s completely irrelevant.” Victoria huffed a little and brushed past Harriett. She needed to call down to radiology and clear her patient so they could get some x-rays. 

Harriett stared after her for a long time, even as Victoria typed up the orders for the x-rays. And as she sat, waiting for a reply email, she caught the other woman still staring her down. “Alright, seriously. Yes, I suppose that’s probably a man named Henry Cavill in there with his nephew. Why in the world would that matter?”

On both sides, the typing of the other nurses and the small amount of chatter died down.

“Wait. Did you say Henry Cavill?” Becca, the most recent hire, almost fell out of her chair asking the question. Marcus almost dropped his clipboard. Rhiannon’s jaw was hanging at a very unflattering angle.

Victoria was very clearly missing something.

“Yes? I suppose so-“

There was a clamor for attention as every nurse in the station pressed in on Victoria, questions bouncing off her like popcorn. She caught something about _Superman_ and the actor before she held out her hands for silence. Her gesture commanded enough attention that the group quieted. “Alright. Someone. Please, tell me what’s going on.”

And that’s how Victoria learned that she was _lucky_ enough to be taking care of the nephew of famous Hollywood actor Henry Cavill, widely considered by the entire floor to be one of the most attractive men in the _world_. Victoria conceded they had a point. He was ridiculously hot. Not, you know, _Ewan McGregor hot,_ but still really ridiculously hot.

And also insanely worried and she’d been gone for almost fifteen minutes, waiting for that return email from radiology. On a slow day like today, she’d have expected to hear back from them by now. She was moments away from just calling when the ding of a new message caught her attention.

Excellent. Immediate availability. She rounded the desk, ready to fetch her patient, when Becca cut her off. “Oh, please let me take the case. It’s really simple, you just said so. Please? He’s the absolute hottest-“

Victoria cut the other woman off with a wave of her hand. Her patient’s famous uncle was absolutely inconsequential. Even if he did have this soft, wounded look about him that made her want to put him to bed for a few days to see if sleep would help. Victoria needed to refocus. She fetched a wheelchair and knocked on the exam room door. She gave them a few seconds and pushed the door open.

She tried her very damnedest not to let the recognition show on her face when she reentered the room. Henry was distracting Peter with a complicated handshake (with Peter’s good arm of course) and Victoria instantly felt like a moron for not recognizing him sooner. Of course she’d seen the new Superman movies. _Of course she had_. And he might have been a bit scruffier at the moment but that was pretty clearly a very famous, _very attractive,_ actor staring back up at her ruefully.

Henry let out the smallest resigned sigh and she instantly knew she hadn’t been as successful at schooling her expression as she’d have liked. She rolled her shoulders back and held out a hand. “Well, Peter. They’re ready for you down at x-ray if you’re ready to take a short ride.”

The boy’s eyes widened in excitement. “A ride? In that? Can we race in the hallway?” He looked up at his uncle, desperately. “Please, Uncle Henry? You can get your own chair and we can-.”

Henry was laughing as he deposited Peter onto his feet. “I didn’t fall out of a tree today so I don’t need x-rays. This ride is all for you, Bud.” The way he said it made the wheel chair ride she was required to give Peter sound like the greatest privilege the seven-year old could be afforded.

Peter held his head high, his arm still cradled but his shoulders back. Victoria laughed at him and stepped back. “Your chariot, my lord.” Peter settled and Victoria was wheeling him out of the room before she realized Henry wasn’t following. “You’re welcome to come with or stay here. Whatever you’d like. If you remain, though, I would suggest you don’t leave the exam room.”

She tried to pack a whole lot into the semi warning: _you will be mobbed if you are caught on this floor alone_. Henry gave her a long and calculated look before he nodded. “I’ll join you. Peter hasn’t had anything x-rayed before and I would hate for him to get nervous without a friendly face there.” He was so in a no-nonsense tone and she kind of appreciated it. She hadn’t serviced many celebrities before but they were usually way more demanding than this and a lot less patient.

Not only that, but he was also super sweet with his nephew. Most men wouldn’t think to be concerned about a kid’s first x-ray.

He was probably a really amazing babysitter, as empathetic as he was. He was very likely tearing himself up inside for letting Peter get hurt.

“Well, all right then, gentlemen. Let’s go get some perfectly harmless low-level radiation.”

Henry’s chuckle was right behind her, far closer than she’d expected. “Well, that’s certainly not ominous at all.”

Not at all.

Peter was a _champ_ through the whole process. She watched the procedure from behind protective glass in the side room. Henry was almost plastered to her hip, both watching intently as the radiologist moved and rotated Peter’s arm for the right angles. When the tech was a little too insistent, she and Henry both sucked in a quick breath between their teeth at Peter’s pained expression.

“I really am not a bad babysitter, I swear.” He was still so remorseful. Victoria glanced over her shoulder to give him her most reassuring smile and nod. He didn’t look reassured at all. In fact, he turned to collapse back into a chair. His head dropped, almost hanging down between his spread knees.

_Fuck. Heaven save her from concerned loved ones._

“Hey, relax. He’s a kid. This is what kids do. You’re doing everything you should for him so give yourself a break.” His glance, once more through the fall of his soft-looking curls, almost stopped her heart with its intensity. “He’ll get a cool cast everyone can sign and you can proudly say you’ve handled an A&E visit with no muss or fuss.” This time when she smiled at him, he returned it.

God. He looked _so familiar_. This had to be something other than his job. She didn’t give that many fucks about movies. Usually they were playing in the background while she was doing housework. She wouldn’t have paid that much attention.

“I heard that other nurse talking to you, in the hallway. And I appreciate your discretion.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Her lips quirked as she contemplated the man in front of her. He looked like every day was a chance to get taken advantage of. “You’re not my patient. And you’ve given me no cause to call NSPCC so today you are just a concerned uncle. And that’s no one’s business but your own.”

He mirrored her expression, giving her a thoughtful once over.

Hmmmm. _Interesting._

Peter reappeared, and Victoria ignored the glances Henry was shooting her. Instead she asked the boy about school. It was a safe topic and she was delighted to learn that his favorite topic was science. They chatted lightly as they headed back to the exam room and she got them both settled.

“Dr. Bathurst is on call at the moment but I believe she’ll be back on the floor shortly. Sit tight and she’ll be by to look at your x-rays and figure out what to do next.” Peter had found the basket of toys in the corner and was distracted. That left his uncle to give her a blindingly bright smile. Her heart _fluttered_ and she turned on her heel to escape.

The doctor did, indeed, appear not long after Victoria practically ran away to hide behind the nurse’s desk. She stared at the closed door, chewing on the inside of her lip. There was something about his dimples and the sharp teeth he was hiding behind that grin. Something that was etched deep in her memory, unpleasant and distant with time.

She jolted out of her reverie by the phone ringing. It was probably Dr. Bathurst, calling for the cast cart. Victoria watched Becca take the call and the subsequently blinding smile that filled the younger woman’s face. That poor child thought she was going to be allowed into the room with Victoria’s patient. When Becca hung up, Victoria straightened. “Cast cart?” The other woman’s face shifted from glee to confusion to resignation. She was still so young with so much to learn.

Becca gave her a curt nod and settled back into the paperwork she’d been working on.

Victoria had always liked working with Dr. Bathurst. The older woman was just as straightforward as Victoria and never had much time for shenanigans. She also knew her stuff and about the only complaints she ever got was that her bedside manner was a little stilted. In the nine years she’d been at the hospital, her best days were almost always the shifts she worked with the stoic Dr. Bathurst.

The feminine laughter coming from the exam room surely couldn’t have been the doctor, then, and Victoria wondered how they‘d snuck another person in the room while she’d been watching it like a hawk. However when she opened the door she found Dr. Bathurst blushing prettily next to Peter and Henry giving her a winning smile.

_Christ Almighty._

“Oh, Nurse Victoria you’re back!” Peter’s bright eyes followed her and he made to wave with the bad arm. He winced before catching himself and the doctor tutted at him.

“Tory, I meant to ask for Paracetamol. 100 milligrams, please.” Dr. Bathurst pulled the cart closer to the examination table and shuffled through a few of the options. Nine years of working together and the doctor still used her old nickname. “Now, Peter, which color of cast would you like?” Victoria blinked at the almost playful tone of the doctor for a half second before jumping to follow her instructions. It was exceptionally unlike Dr. Bathurst to forget an order on the phone.

She almost missed the wide eyes of Henry staring her down as she left to get the pills but she definitely noticed he was watching her much more closely.

WHile her best days were usually with Dr. Bathurst, today was just going to go down as strange. And odd.

Pills retrieved, she hovered in the room as Dr. Bathurst finished with the cast. The break wasn’t severe and she knew Peter would be fine. He was grinning even wider as the pain meds kicked in and the plaster set. “Look, Nurse Victoria! Blue and red, just like Superman.” She gave him the most indulgent smile she could. She was so happy his mood was improving.

And how sweet that he was so devoted to his uncle. She blew a tuft of hair out of her eyes before sliding an appraising look at Henry. If her uncle had been a super hero she’d probably have idolized him too. She shifted uncomfortably when she found Henry’s deep eyes staring back at her once more. 

“And, we’re all done! Now, Peter. Promise you’ll ask for help the next time you see something you can’t reach, okay?” The boy nodded up at the doctor before looking back down at his arm. He started to ask Henry about signing his cast and Dr. Bathurst turned to give her a smile. “Six week follow-up order with the PCP and a few leaflets on pain management please, Tory?” Victoria gave the doctor a nod of affirmation.

The hard part was over. She drew up the discharge orders at the computer terminal in the room, letting the Cavills chat between each other as she typed. This really was going to go down as the oddest day in recent memory.

She could still feel Henry’s eyes on her, even as he was joking with his nephew. 

Victoria typed faster, hoping to get out of the room as quickly as possible. This whole interaction had gone from fascination to feeling like she was on display and it was making her uncomfortable. With a flourish, she hit the print button and gave one last smile. “All right gentlemen. I’ll have Nurse Becca bring in your discharge papers and a few handouts that she’ll explain. Have Peter’s mum or dad follow up with his pediatrician.”

Peter gave her a wide grin. His cheek dimples were charming. Just like his uncle’s and there was that memory, once more. In the back of her mind. It felt like Guinness and a muggy late spring afternoon. Scarfs floating in the wind and the _king’s best friend._

She met Henry’s eyes and froze, ice spilling through her veins.

He sure did look familiar and it was at that moment she realized it was because she’d definitely seen him naked. Well. She hadn’t actually seen much between his refusal to turn on a light and her mad dash of panic post-broken condom. She’d _felt_ him naked.

He’d been _inside her_.

Henry. Henry the _actor_. Who had most definitely taken her home from a bar in Ireland a whole lifetime ago and had given her the singularly worst night of consensual sex of her entire life. She could feel that ice in her veins turn to fire. Her cheeks must have been burning because he actually tilted his head in concern. 

She knew he was about to ask if she was all right and she had to plaster on the very best smile she could. He, hopefully, hadn’t realized that they were _biblical acquaintances_ and she’d very much so like to keep it that way. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon!” She was out the door before he could get a word in.

Victoria paused long enough at the desk to instruct Becca to do the final touches on Peter’s discharge and then she was down the hall. Hiding again.

It was hours later when Victoria pushed open the door to her flat with a heavy sigh. Her day had been a mish mash of long and messy hours that she just couldn’t wrap her head around without wanting to low-key vomit. She put her ear buds in as she dropped her work bag by the door and dialed Jecy on her cell. Her best friend was _never_ going to believe that her disastrous Irish hook-up had not only had the _audacity_ to come into her work today but had also _grown the fuck up. God, he was a giant wall of muscle now._

Her thumb wandered around her screen, tempted to type in _Henry Cavill_ into Google while she waited for the call to connect. She’d resisted the temptation all day. She could wait a bit longer until she was alone in bed. 

For _reasons_.

The call went to voicemail and Victory heaved out a sigh. “Jecy, call me back when you get this. You are never going to believe what happened at work today.” Knowing her best friend, Jecy was probably taking a long bath and forgetting everything she knew about family law, as per usual at the end of her work day. They’d chat later over wine.

Her foot caught on the strap of a bright blue backpack, garishly decorated with a cartoon Superman. Her heart clenched, hard, for half a second as she stared down at the serious face on the bag. Why? Why her? How in the world could anyone ever imagine she was lucky?

She wasn’t lucky.

She was cursed with perfectly balanced karma.

Later on in her day, when everything was quiet, she’d contemplate what it meant that such a strangely horrific part of her past had walked right into her present like he had any business being there. For now, she had some scolding to do.

“Thomas Killian Seville Bartlett. You get your butt out here right this instant and pick up your school stuff. I almost broke my neck.” Her tone was firm but still relatively joking. She had a smile on her face, thinking of the inevitable sorry that would drift out from the back bedroom right before a flurry of footsteps. Victoria made her way into the kitchen, in search of a can of seltzer and a light snack. It had been a long day.

Thirty seconds after her yelling, she heard the patter of feet and then a soft apology behind her, “Sorry!” She was still smiling when she turned to appraise the nine-year old in the kitchen doorway. 

The inevitable passage of time always baffled her. TK was growing non-stop like a weed; he was already up to her shoulder. Bright blue eyes, with just the hint of green in the left one, stared up at her from under his unruly mop of auburn curls. He needed a haircut. Or some styling tips to keep his eyes clear. Not that she could help: her hair was practically board-straight.

He was almost vibrating, an unusual behavior from the quiet and ridiculously nerdy child. 

“Well, what’s the scoop, kiddo? Is that it?”

“Yup!” He popped his ‘p’ just like the 10th Doctor, _his absolute very favorite of all of them,_ and grinned. His hands held his long-awaited comic book aloft and she laughed at him. Getting him that subscription was the very least she could do, him having to deal with her ridiculous work hours. 

“And?”

He was bashful, but so very happy. “It’s perfect. If I can- I mean. I’m going to go read it again, before dinner?” They were still working on polite small talk and he really was making an effort. 

Victoria waved a dismissive hand at “Begone, then, small human. I need a shower anyway.” 

He took a step back towards his room before he darted forward to hug her tight around her stomach. “Thanks, Mum. I love you.” TK was gone before she could respond and she smiled after him fondly.

Now. Shower. Wine. Jecy. Or. Maybe: shower, dinner, wine, Jecy. 


End file.
